Two Weeks Later
I'm going to be sick.
I'm actually going to be sick right here in Dylan's room while getting dressed for the most important event of my life.
"Breathe, beautiful," Keith says from where he's adjusting his own clothes in the mirror. "You're turning pale."
"I'm fine," I lie, fumbling with the buttons on my shirt for the third time.
Dylan appears behind me, gently moving my hands aside and taking over the buttons. "You're not fine. You're panicking."
"I'm not panicking—"
"Your hands are shaking."
I look down. He's right. My hands are definitely shaking.
"Okay, maybe I'm panicking a little."
"That's understandable," Dylan says, finishing the last button and smoothing down my collar. "You're about to meet the entire celestial community. That's intimidating."
"Very helpful, Dyl," Keith says dryly. "Really putting him at ease."
"I'm being honest."
"You could be honestly reassuring."
"I am reassuring. I'm reassuring him that his feelings are valid."
I watch them bicker and feel some of the tension ease slightly.
This is normal. This is familiar.
Keith and Dylan being themselves, taking care of me in their own ways.
We've been preparing for this for two weeks. Ever since Keith and Dylan officially confirmed we'd attend the celestial gathering—a celebration of something I can't quite remember, but apparently it's a big deal.
A chance to meet other gods and goddesses.
A chance to be formally introduced as Keith and Dylan's partner.
A chance for everyone to judge whether I'm worthy of them.
No pressure.
"Everyone's going to love you," Keith says, moving to stand beside Dylan. "We've told you that a hundred times."
"You've told me that. Doesn't mean it's true."
"It is true," Dylan says firmly. "You're kind, intelligent, brave—"
"I'm a human who used to be suicidal and has more trauma than most people accumulate in a lifetime."
"You're a human who survived," Keith corrects. "Who kept going even when everything was against you. Who opened his heart despite every reason not to. That's incredible, Cecil."
"They're going to think I'm weak."
"They're going to think you're strong," Dylan says. "Because you are."
I want to believe them. I really do.
But the anxiety sitting in my chest isn't convinced.
Dylan's hands find my shoulders, turning me to face him. "Are you ready?"
The question is gentle. An out, if I need it.
I could say no. Could ask to postpone. Could hide in this apartment for the rest of my life.
But that's not who I want to be anymore.
"I don't think I'll ever be ready," I admit quietly. "But as long as I have you both by my side, I'll be fine."
Dylan's expression softens. "We're not going anywhere, baby. We'll be right there with you the entire time."
"Promise?"
"Promise," Keith and Dylan say in unison.
Keith moves to stand in front of me, extending his hand. "Together?"
I look at his outstretched hand, then at Dylan who's watching with warm eyes.
"Together," Dylan and I reply at the same time.
I take Keith's hand, and Dylan's hand finds mine on the other side.
And just like that, I feel steadier.
Not completely calm. Not without anxiety.
But anchored.
Grounded by the two people who matter most.
"Let's do this before I change my mind," I say.
Keith grins. "That's the spirit."
---
The transition to the celestial realm is familiar now, but it still takes my breath away.
We materialize in a garden—not one I've been to before. This one is larger, more elaborate, with flowers I don't have names for and trees that seem to reach toward an impossibly beautiful sky.
And it's full of people.
Gods and goddesses everywhere—some in small groups talking, some standing alone observing, all of them radiating that particular energy that marks them as divine.
Beautiful. Powerful. Eternal.
And I'm just... me.
Human. Mortal. Decidedly not divine despite whatever powers Nalani gave me.
I must make some kind of sound because Keith squeezes my hand. "You okay?"
"There are so many of them," I manage.
"There are," Dylan agrees. "But you don't need to talk to all of them. Just the ones who matter."
"Which ones matter?"
"The ones who are important to us," Keith says simply.
Several heads turn in our direction as people notice our arrival.
I can feel the weight of their attention, their curiosity.
Who's the human with Kairos and Nebrys?
Why is he holding their hands?
Is he their partner?
The questions are written clearly on their faces even if they're not saying them out loud.
Before I can spiral too far into panic, there's movement in the crowd.
Aethera appears, moving toward us with a bright smile, Nalani right behind her.
"You came!" Aethera pulls all three of us into a hug—somehow managing to embrace us simultaneously. "I'm so glad you're here."
"We said we'd come," Keith says, but he's smiling.
"I know, but I was worried Cecil might get too nervous." Aethera pulls back to look at me. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm terrified," I admit.
"That's completely normal." Nalani appears beside her mother, giving me a warm smile. "I was terrified at my first gathering too."
"You were born here," I point out.
"Doesn't make it less intimidating." She reaches out to squeeze my arm gently. "You're going to be fine. And if anyone gives you trouble, they'll have to deal with all of us."
The protective tone in her voice is oddly comforting.
"Where's Naomi?" I ask, looking around.
"Probably somewhere causing chaos," Nalani says fondly. "She was very excited you'd be here. She's been telling everyone about you."
"What has she been telling them?"
"That you're wonderful and kind and saved a kitten and are absolutely perfect for Keith and Dylan." Nalani's eyes dance with amusement. "She's become quite your champion."
Heat floods my face.
"That's our Naomi," Keith says, grinning.
I'm about to respond when I feel it—a weight of attention different from the general curiosity.
More focused. More intense.
I turn slightly and freeze.
There's a man standing about twenty feet away, partially hidden by a group of other gods.
Tall—taller than Aethera even. Pale skin that almost seems to glow in the celestial light. White hair that falls past his shoulders. And eyes—
Red eyes.
Not just red. The color of blood. Deep and intense and fixed directly on me.
He's beautiful in a way that's almost unsettling. Sharp features, elegant bearing, dressed entirely in black that contrasts starkly with his pale coloring.
And he's smiling at me.
Not a friendly smile exactly. More... knowing. Assessing.
Like he can see right through me.
I should look away. Should focus on Aethera and Nalani and the conversation happening around me.
But I can't seem to break eye contact.
The man's smile widens slightly, as if he knows exactly what effect he's having.
Then he turns away, returning his attention to the person beside him—a god with a strong build, shorter hair than most of the others here, radiating an aura of controlled violence even in casual conversation.
"Cecil?" Dylan's voice breaks through my distraction. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I manage, tearing my gaze away from the white-haired man. "Just... taking it all in."
Dylan follows my previous line of sight and his expression shifts—something like recognition.
"Did you see someone you know?" Keith asks, noticing Dylan's reaction.
"Tenebrae is here," Dylan says quietly.
"Oh." Keith's expression changes—something warm and grateful mixed with slight nervousness. "Where?"
"Near the war pavilion. Talking to Sorael."
Keith finds them and nods. "Of course he's talking to Sorael. Those two always find each other at these things."
"Who's Tenebrae?" I ask, the name unfamiliar.
"The God of Pain," Keith explains, his voice carefully measured. "He's the one who helped me. When I needed to tell you the truth about your past life."
I blink. "He helped you?"
"Yeah. I spent a week with him—remember when I was gone? When Dylan stayed with you?" Keith's hand tightens slightly on mine. "Tenebrae taught me how to tell you without making it sound like I wanted to fix you or was pitying you. How to just... be there for you while you processed."
The information settles over me slowly.
The God of Pain helped Keith learn how to help me.
"And Sorael?" I ask.
"God of War," Dylan supplies. "He and Tenebrae are... close. They balance each other out somehow."
I look back toward where I saw them, but they're partially obscured by the crowd now.
The God of Pain.
The one who helped Keith understand what I needed.
I don't know how to feel about that.
"Is he... dangerous?" I ask.
"Not in the way you're thinking," Keith says. "He's intense. Very perceptive. But he taught me how to be there for you without hurting you more. I owe him a lot."
"We both do," Dylan adds quietly. "What he taught Keith helped all of us."
I process this, trying to reconcile the elegant, unsettling figure with someone who would help Keith help me.
"Cecil!" A familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.
Naomi appears, practically bouncing with excitement. "You made it! I've been waiting for you!"
She pulls me into a hug, and I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm.
"Hi, Naomi."
"Hi! Come on, I want to introduce you to everyone!" She starts tugging on my arm.
"Naomi, give him a moment to breathe," Nalani says, amused.
"But there are so many people who want to meet him!"
"And they can wait five minutes."
Naomi pouts but releases my arm. "Fine. Five minutes. But then I'm stealing him."
"Noted," Keith says, grinning.
Aethera and Nalani guide us toward a quieter area of the garden where we can talk without being immediately overwhelmed by curious onlookers.
But I can still feel eyes on us. On me specifically.
The weight of divine attention, judgment, curiosity.
And somewhere in the crowd, those blood-red eyes that saw right through me.
The god who helped Keith learn how to help me.
"You're doing great," Dylan murmurs against my ear, his hand steady on my back.
"I haven't done anything yet."
"You showed up. That's the hard part."
Keith squeezes my hand. "The rest is easy. Just be yourself."
"What if myself isn't impressive enough?"
"Then they're idiots," Keith says firmly. "And we don't care about idiots' opinions anyway."
Despite everything, I smile.
Okay.
I can do this.
I'm here. With Keith and Dylan. With Aethera and Nalani and Naomi.
With people who care about me.
Whatever happens next, I'm not facing it alone.
Together.
Just like we promised.
Aethera and Nalani guide us through the garden, and I'm acutely aware of the attention we're drawing.
Every few steps, someone new turns to look. Some with curiosity, some with interest, a few with what I can only describe as delighted surprise.
"Ready to meet some people?" Keith asks quietly.
"Not really, but I don't think that's going to stop this from happening."
"Smart man," Dylan murmurs, amused.
The first goddess to approach us is elegant and poised, with flowing robes that seem to shift colors in the light.
"Kairos! Dylan!" Her voice is warm. "And this must be your partner. We've heard so much about you."
I freeze slightly, but Keith squeezes my hand.
"Cecil, this is Lyraea, Goddess of Music," Keith introduces. "Lyraea, this is Cecil."
"It's lovely to meet you," Lyraea says, and her smile seems genuine. "Naomi has been singing your praises—quite literally. She composed a little song about you and the kitten you rescued."
"She did what?" I manage.
"It's actually quite charming. Very uplifting." Lyraea's eyes are kind. "Welcome to the family, Cecil. We're glad to have you here."
She moves on before I can fully process that she just called me family.
The next introduction comes quickly—a tall god with kind eyes and an easy smile.
"The famous Cecil," he says warmly. "I'm Eudeios, God of Hospitality. Any friend of Aethera's sons is welcome in my home."
"Thank you," I say, still waiting for the judgment, the scrutiny, the assessment of whether I'm worthy.
But it doesn't come.
Theron just smiles and moves aside for the next person.
And the next.
And the next.
God after goddess after god, all greeting me with warmth and welcome.
Not judgment.
Not disdain.
Just... acceptance.
"You look surprised," Dylan observes after the fifth or sixth introduction.
"I am surprised. I thought—" I stop, not sure how to finish.
"You thought they'd judge you for being human," Keith says gently.
"Yeah."
"Some of them probably have opinions about it," Dylan admits. "But the ones worth knowing don't care. They care about the fact that you make us happy."
"And that you're brave enough to show up here despite being terrified," Keith adds. "That earns respect."
I'm processing this when another figure approaches—this one immediately familiar despite never having met him before.
Light blue hair tied back in a ponytail. A simple white outfit that somehow looks both casual and elegant. Silver accessories that catch the light.
And a warm, open expression that reminds me immediately of Nalani.
"You must be Cecil," he says, extending his hand. "I'm Eleri. Nalani's husband."
I shake his hand, and his grip is firm but friendly. "It's nice to meet you. I think I might have seen you before? When I visited with Naomi?"
"You probably did," Eleri confirms with a smile. "I was dealing with some temple business, but I definitely saw you around. Nalani spoke very highly of you after that visit."
"She was very kind to me," I say.
"She tends to be kind to people she likes. And she definitely likes you." Eleri's expression turns more serious but no less warm. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?"
"For being there for Naomi when she needed someone. For helping her realize she didn't have to carry everything alone." His voice is sincere. "Nalani told me how you supported her. That means a lot to us."
My face heats. "I didn't really do anything. I just—"
"You were honest with her about your own struggles," Eleri interrupts gently. "You showed her that it's okay to not be okay. That's not nothing, Cecil. That's everything."
I don't know what to say to that.
Keith saves me by speaking up. "How's the temple restoration going?"
"Beautifully, actually." Eleri's attention shifts to Keith, giving me a moment to breathe. "We should be finished within the month. You should come see it when it's done—all three of you."
"We'd like that," Dylan says.
Eleri excuses himself after a few more minutes of conversation, and I'm left feeling slightly overwhelmed.
"Everyone is so... nice," I say, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"They are nice," Keith confirms. "Most of them, anyway. There are always a few who are judgmental or stuck in old ways, but we don't associate with them."
"And if any of them give you trouble," Dylan adds, his voice taking on a protective edge, "they'll have to deal with us."
"And me," Aethera adds, appearing beside us with fresh drinks. "And Nalani. And probably Naomi. And Eleri, for that matter. You've accumulated quite the protective circle, Cecil."
"I noticed," I say, accepting a glass of something that sparkles in the celestial light.
"Good." Aethera's expression is satisfied. "You deserve to be protected. To be welcomed. To be celebrated."
"Celebrated seems like a strong word—"
"You're here," Aethera interrupts. "Despite your fear. Despite your past. Despite every reason you had to say no. That's worth celebrating."
Before I can respond, Naomi appears with three other goddesses in tow.
"Cecil! These are my friends—they've been dying to meet you!"
And just like that, I'm swept into another round of introductions.
But this time, I'm starting to relax.
Because every single person who approaches does so with warmth.
With welcome.
With genuine happiness that I'm here.
No judgment in their eyes.
Just acceptance.
And maybe—just maybe—I'm starting to believe that I belong here after all.
Keith and Dylan stay close throughout, their presence a constant anchor.
But they also step back when needed, letting me have conversations on my own, trusting that I can handle it.
And I can.
I'm actually handling it.
"You're doing amazing, beautiful," Keith murmurs during a brief lull in introductions.
"I'm not doing anything," I protest.
"You're being yourself," Dylan corrects. "That's more than enough."
I look around at the gathering—at the gods and goddesses mingling, laughing, celebrating.
At Aethera talking with a group near the fountain.
At Nalani and Eleri standing close together, his hand on the small of her back.
At Naomi bouncing between groups, spreading joy wherever she goes.
And at Keith and Dylan, flanking me on either side, solid and present and mine.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"For what?" Keith asks.
"For bringing me here. For believing I could do this."
"We didn't bring you," Dylan says gently. "You chose to come. We just supported that choice."
"Still. Thank you."
Keith presses a kiss to my temple. "Always, beautiful."
And standing there in the celestial garden, surrounded by divine beings who have welcomed me without hesitation, I feel something settle in my chest.
Not confidence, exactly.
But maybe the beginning of it.
The start of believing that I really do belong here.
With them.
Exactly as I am.